


Shelter

by TaillessGiraffe



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, so much drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaillessGiraffe/pseuds/TaillessGiraffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things you never asked for are the ones that stay. And the things that stay are the ones that destroy you. In her life that was a constant converted into tenet she had learnt the hard way to accept as absolute. On these grounds it of course had to be an old lawbreaker who would finally snap her eyes open.</p><p>Written for the skyrimkinkmeme! WIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘I am just as happy as you are that the guild is finally seeing better days, but-‘  
  
‘Ooo-hokay’ he laughed, pulling up his pants, ‘I said I am sorry, wooon’t happen again…!’  
  
‘Yeah, somehow, I don’t believe you’ she scoffed, pulling back her hair, ‘Must be that shit-eating grin on your face’.  
  
A snort. ‘Come on, now, relax…! I am completely sure that no one noticed’ he beamed playfully, ‘And you didn’t exactly hate it, either’.  
  
She let out a tired sigh, turning to face him. ‘Okay, let me put it down in a way that makes you understand how serious I am about this: next time you put your hand down my pants in a room in which Vekel is present, I don’t care if I’m kicked out of the guild for it, I  _will_  slice your arm off’.  
  
He laughed harder, holding up his hands. ‘Gods, Tons! It was just a bit of harmless teasing…!’  
  
‘ _No_ , it was you having way too many bottles of mead, together with all that enthusiasm this new protégée of yours has been bringing’.  
  
‘She’s good, isn’t she?’  
  
‘ **Brynjolf** , I fucking mean it. Next time you feel like it, you- wink at me, or ask me about some non-existent shipment, you already know how we do this!’  
  
‘What about that time you sneaked up on me and-‘  
  
‘I told you, I was SOBER. I knew where my hand was and what I was doing. Big difference’.   
  
‘Alright, alright!’ he threw his hands in the air, surrendering, ‘Like I said, won’t happen again’.  
  
‘Good’ she nodded sharply, buckling up the last of her belts and turning to leave the small storage room. ‘Wait five minutes, then come out’.  
  
‘Yeah, yeah’ he waved, watching as she closed the door behind her.  
  
Perhaps Tonilia was right, the thief thought to himself, and he’d allowed the euphoria to take over his reason. But honestly, after such a long time of brooding over and worrying about the future of the guild, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he felt like a kid with an entire basket of sweetrolls. Especially not when he’d been the seer of such fortunate change of events, and his protégée, his wager, the glorious harbinger. Who wouldn’t feel inclined to act like a careless idiot in his place?  
  
After a few minutes of waiting, he came out of the room as well, that enormous grin back on his face as he turned the corner and went to the tables, where Delvin was drinking.  
  
‘Delvin, my man! Tell me again,  _how_  are we doing?’  
  
The older Breton looked over his shoulder, snorting and raising his tankard in a greeting gesture. ‘Well, we’re getting richer, jobs are flowing in from almost every hold in the region and there isn’t an unpaid debt in sight, Brynjolf. Just like yesterday, and the day before yesterday…!’  
  
The redhaired thief tilted his head back, taking a long, deep breath and then drawling out a blissful sigh. ‘Ahhh, I just don’t get tired of hearing it’ he said, reaping a throaty laugh from Delvin which he immediately joined.  
  
‘Got to admit, Brynjolf, when you said she was taking all that time to accept a real job because she was  _training_ , I took you for an obstinate fool’.  
  
‘Hmm-mm, I remember you calling me something along those lines, yes’ he mockingly agreed, dragging a nearby chair to sit by Delvin.  
  
‘Yeah, but now? I’ll be the first one to say it: it was damn well worth the wait!’ he raised his cup once again as he said that and then took a long swig, gasping satisfyingly. ‘Things going like this, I don’t even care what this anonymous competitor has in store for us. I’d like to see them trying to bring us down now!’  
  
Brynjolf chuckled, shrugging. ‘Well, I got to admit, even I had my doubts about the girl back then’.  
  
‘Pfrt! Yeah, right’ came from their right, and Brynjolf turned his gaze at Vex, ‘Vekel practically had to mop the floor behind you whenever she was around, old man. You wouldn’t have doubted the whelp even if she had set the ledger on fire in front of your face’.

He rolled his eyes at the quiet laugh that spread through the tavern, unfazed. ‘Aye, you’re right, I admit it. I admit that I was  _right_  from the beginning! And that you’re all a faithless bunch of pessimists’ he showed the silver haired thief his best know-it-all smile and she puffed in return, however unable to hold back her own smirk.  
  
‘By the way, regarding our little bundle of joy…’ Delvin interrupted, reclaiming Brynjolf’s attention, ‘You know anything about her? I know she normally takes her time with the jobs- she takes many at a time and I  _love_  her for that, but still, it’s been… three weeks?’  
  
‘Yesterday made it four, actually’ Vex commented, knitting her brow. ‘Yeah, I was wondering myself. It isn’t like her to send not even a letter’.  
  
Brynjolf’s eyes darted from Delvin to Vex, seemingly at a loss as to what they were talking about. ‘Wait, wait, are you telling me she hasn’t made it back yet?’  
  
Delvin stared at the second-in-command in confusion from under furrowed brows. ‘And you’re telling me you didn’t know? Exactly where have you been these last two weeks?’  
  
The nord shook his head. ‘No, no, what I mean is- last time I checked, there were bags on her bed,  _her_  bags. I guessed she just, stopped by real fast and then left again? It wouldn’t be the first time she does that’.  
  
‘Ah, no, no’ Vex walked up to their table, ‘No, that was this mage, the one for hire that practically  _lives_  at The Bee and Barb? He gave that to Sapphire around a week ago, saying our girl had just dismissed him and that she paid him an extra to take some of her stuff back to the guild’.  
  
Brynjolf stared at her in disbelief, processing the news. ‘… well. Well, shit. And that’s it? He didn’t say where she was headed? There has been no letters? Nothing at all?’  
  
Delvin rushed to pat his shoulder. ‘Hey, now, there’s no need to worry. It’s strange, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious. After all, a week ago she was just fine, right?’ he looked at Vex for support, nodding his head, ‘She probably got stuck in one of the northern cities, you know how bad blizzards get this time of the year’.  
  
‘Yeah,  _dad_ , the girl knows how to handle herself. I’m sure we’ll get news from her very soon’ Vex assured, sitting down and ordering Vekel some mead for herself.  
  
Brynjolf pursed his lips, laying back on the chair. After a small pause, he sighed in resignation, crossing his arms. ‘I guess you’re right’ he muttered, sounding far from convinced, ‘Either way, tell me if there’s news about her, will you?’  
  
‘You got it’.


	2. Chapter 2

_Clink. Clink. Kkkrh. Clin- crack!_   
  
_‘Shit…’_   
  
_Clink, kkkrh, kkkrh- crack!_   
  
_‘Tks, gods- … fffuck, damnit…’_   
  
_Clink, kkr- crack!_   
  
_‘Fffhh…!’_   
  
_She throws the broken picklock away, with a curse, wringing up her hands as if she was breaking a chicken’s neck. With a loud grunt she bends forward, placing both hands on the back of her head and ruffling her already unkempt hair, restraining the yell of stress that menaces with breaking through._   
  
_‘Maybe you should start easy, lass. That one is a master lock’._   
  
_The soothing voice of her so-called mentor only manages to irritate her even more, and she doesn’t even turn around to greet him, instead drilling the lock with her gaze._   
  
_‘I **have**  done this before. I know I can do it’._   
  
_The redhaired thief leans against the door frame, still amused even after all their interactions by the girl’s stone-hard determination. He decides to believe her, disregarding the fact that even some of their oldest members still had troubles picking the harder locks like that one._   
  
_‘Then perhaps the problem isn’t with the lock, but in your head’._   
  
_She groans as a response, stretching and cracking her neck._   
  
_‘You’ve been quite on the edge these last few days, is all I’m saying’._   
  
_She sighs. ‘I’m fine…’_   
  
_‘Uh-huh. I think the dummy you nearly destroyed with the blade yesterday would have one or two things to say about that’ he teases her, careful not to over-push it, and then takes a few steps forward, looking down with both hands on his hips. She takes a deep breath, but doesn’t respond to his comment. As usual._   
  
_He sighs. ‘Listen, lass. I already know what your answer to this will be, but I mean it. If there’s something bothering you…’_   
  
_‘There’s not, I am **fine** ’ she insists. _   
  
_‘I want to believe that, I really do’ he continues, ‘But Delvin has started asking me why won’t you ever leave the city for a job, and you must understand, I can only use the "training" excuse for too long before it grows old’._   
  
_Her posture subtly stiffens at his words, but she keeps her face turned away. However, it isn’t like the old thief needs to see her expression to know this is a subject she doesn’t like to talk about. It isn’t the first time he tries to pry it out of her. And so he needs to remind himself that he’s still her superior and the one in charge of her progress -even if that last part is something they had just assumed, and not a written rule, and urges himself to push the subject and to keep the pampering to the children in Honorhall, least he wanted to feed Vex’s ridiculous theories about his biological clock screaming for offspring to coddle._   
  
_‘And it isn’t just Delvin. Him I can somehow keep entertained. But Mercer, that is another story, and he isn’t precisely enchanted with your progression, either’ he crosses his arms, biting his inner cheek. He is far from eager to use that card, but then again it isn’t entirely a lie, either. The guildmaster has been far too occupied dealing with Maven and trying to get back in touch with their longtime silent contacts to truly bother checking up on the lass’ progress, but he still had shared his opinion on the matter, the rare times he had a pause from work, and it has never been a positive one._

_His protégée finally does something else from staring front and stands up, dusting off her backside as she slowly turns around, her current vexation unveiled._   
  
_‘You… tks- you don’t need to excuse me, really’ she mutters._   
  
_Brynjolf rolls his eyes at that. ‘That is not the problem. I can keep this up until you feel ready to take on bigger assignments, but it would help me, greatly, if I knew what I’m actually backing you up for’ he explains, lifting a brow inquisitively._   
  
_Her struggle is so obvious, he could almost laugh. She looks away, her whole body slightly quivering, fighting to find the words._   
  
_‘Look, it’s…’ she lets out a ragged exhale, ‘I-I got it, alright? I promise, you won’t have to keep this up anymore’._   
  
_‘Lass, I told you-‘_   
  
_‘I know, I know! I know you don’t mind, but…!’ she holds up her hands, stepping to the side and advancing backwards to the door, ‘I don’t want you to have to do it, understand? Soon, I promise’._   
  
_He opens his arms and lets them fall again on his sides. ‘I am not trying to rush you, I just-’_   
  
_‘But they’re right, I can’t just…’ she holds onto the door frame, trying to allay her anxiety, ‘… soon, okay? I promise’ and with a wave of her hand she leaves, ignoring his short-lived response._   
  
_He utters a frustrated curse, his shoulders dropping. Impossible, simply impossible. Like trying to read a book written with invisible ink in a dark room._   
  
_Well, he thinks, approaching the chests she has been training with to relock them, this was not what he was aiming for but at least, maybe, if she keeps her word, Delvin will stop his buggering. And that’s something._


	3. Chapter 3

When the news from Ivarstead came, Brynjolf had almost welcomed them, as desperate as he was for a distraction of any kind, before he realized that’d be a pretty terrible thing to do.   
  
A dragon, they said, had attacked the small settlement earlier that morning. A panting courier had arrived hardly a few hours after the incident, delivering a letter for Bersi, where one of his friends in the village detailed the happening in gruesome detail, thanking the gods for still being alive. Word travelled fast, and soon every person in Riften talked about guards being burnt to ashes and houses going down in flames. Shadr claimed that the beast was so big he had seen its distant shape circling the sky above Ivarstead from his window.   
  
But only a few got to hear the entire story from Bersi. The version in which a nameless stranger had slayed the beast, absorbing from the dragon’s lifeless body twirling strands of color and light and then vanishing as fast as they had appeared. A hero just like in the ancient tales, they’d whisper. Something about prophecies. To be honest, that’s where Brynjolf had lost all interest.  
  
Of course he would rather have the dragons as far away from Riften as possible. He remembered that giant red mass of scales that attacked Merryfair Farm on Last Seed of that same year. There were no survivors, and the winged bastard had simply flown away, taking with it four guards. No one would want a repeat of that. But that’s where his concern towards the subject stopped. Skyrim was a land as beautiful as it was dangerous, and be it bears, sabre cats, trolls or a flying lizard, it all came down to the same motto: live your life to the fullest, because tomorrow you could be someone or something’s breakfast.   
  
And that’s exactly what he planned to do that day. Another week had passed without news from the girl, even though reports from their fences and the gold filling the guild’s chests both confirmed that every job she had left to do had been taken care of, and successfully.   
  
Because of that, the redhaired thief was on the brink of getting on the first horse at hand and travel through every hold in Skyrim yelling her name out loud all the way. And since that would be a very stupid thing to do and the girl was obviously  _not_  his responsibility out of the guild, Brynjolf had settled upon drowning his worries in mead, or wine, even that awful concoction he sold as a remedy would do at this point, really, and then go ask Haelga for some moral support.   
  
At least that was the initial plan, until Sapphire came to him with juicy news that didn’t involve dragons nor unnamed heroes, but good old purses of coin. 

The guild had already heard about the purchasing of Honeyside, weeks ago, but with the recovering of their influence and that bothersome issue with their slippery competitor covering their range of vision, they hadn’t really investigated the topic further than that. However just last evening Sapphire had been in her usual position in The Bee and Barb, eavesdropping in search of anything of interest from the surrounding conversations, when she had heard Iona, one of the housecarls in Mistveil Keep, drunkenly rambling about her employer being gone for so long she had basically turned a maid, dust and grime the only things left for her to look after.  
  
Of course the interesting thing about all of that was that her employer turned out to be Honeyside’s mysterious owner and, from what the nord warrior had vociferously listed as things she had to dust off every week, they were also holder to a wide collection of armors, weapons, jewels and many, many relics of different origins.   
  
In short, they had a drunk housecarl sleeping it off in the tavern, probably until late in the evening, and an owner gone for an indefinite amount of time, leaving a house full of treasures to exploit completely unguarded.   
  
He looked up at the skies, thanking every Divine he could remember. Not only was he gifted with that much needed distraction, but he also had the opportunity to dust himself off and put his neglected skills back in play.   
  
Now,  _this_ , this was a real basket of sweetrolls. 


	4. Chapter 4

She cursed under her breath as yet another arrow went over her head, missing its target by mere inches. A stroke of luck, considering she wasn’t even trying to dodge them, instead focusing all her energy into running away as fast as her wounds allowed her without tripping over any rock, her left arm pressing tight against her abdomen to keep any more blood from flowing out.   
  
The dragon, she had expected. It would’ve been impossible not to see the beast circling the village as she came down from High Hrothgar. She had readied her weapons and masked her face long before she had made it to the bridge, still fairly intimidated by the damn creature even after having slayed many of its siblings. And even though she soon managed to beat it down to the ground with a few certain shots and the help from some brave guards, the beast had a lot of fight left in its ancient bones.   
  
It stretched its neck as quickly as she drew out her sword, successfully trapping her in between its enormous jaws. The leather of her armor and her small frame saved her from a certain death, but one of its fangs still managed to sink through into her stomach. She had just enough time to scream before it swung her around like a doll and threw her against the nearest stone wall.   
  
Luckily for her none of the guards backed down, and after a lot of stumbling around, doing her best to ignore the enclosing clouds in her range of vision, her blade finally cut across the beast’s neck.   
  
She didn’t wait for its flesh to start burning to get away from the scene, knowing from past experience that its soul would just catch up with her once it left the body. She was sick of the gasping, the screaming and the lauding, and even though that dragonpriest’s mask was proving useful when it came to hiding her identity to the few that didn’t yet know it, she’d rather not deal with their torrent of questions and commentary she was apparently morally obligated to answer and listen to. Especially not when her hand and some frail strings of flesh were the only things keeping her guts from falling out.  
  
She sat against a boulder once she was far enough from Ivarstead, taking off her bag to make use of the healing potions, immediately realizing it was far too light for the amount of junk she usually carried around. The lid was open, and half of her things gone. Probably happened when that winged bastard had sent her flying against the wall, unnoticed until now in the rush of the battle. Her healing potions, of course, were also nowhere to be found, such was her luck.   
  
It wouldn’t have been that big of a problem, really. She had thought of reaching that abandoned campsite settled close to the village and use her scarce magicka to heal her wounds, even if it took her a few hours. She could use the break before returning to the guild, anyway.  
  
But then, on her way to the camp, the mercenaries showed up.  
  
Sent to kill the Dragonborn by an anonymous contractor. Not the first, neither the last. Probably lured to her location by the dragon falling from the skies with a furious cry.  
  
And there she was, running away, cause she was not as foolish as to try and face the four of them in her actual state, and praying she could make it to Riften before passing out. Using her left hand to put small rushes of healing magic through her body, enough to keep her going, one step at a time.

Lake Honrich came into view just as one of the arrows struck the back of her leg, breaking through the thin layer her clothes offered without any additional armor protecting said zone. She staggered for a second but pushed herself to keep running, ignoring the aching pain. A second one hit her back, near her left shoulder, only the tip reaching her skin thanks to her leather. The third one managed to stab her right arm, and she allowed herself to yell out loud as she kept making her way through trees and rocks.   
  
The wound on her stomach was still top priority, since she knew for a fact the arrows hadn’t hit any vital point. That’s it, until she heard the unmistakable hissing sound that a poisoned arrow tip caused as it burned the flesh surrounding it.  
  
 _SHIT._  
  
She had to make the decision in the split of a second, so it was no wonder that later, when she had the time to put it into consideration, it didn’t turn out to be the wisest.  
  
But at that moment, as the paralysis commenced to reach her joints and the celebrating laugher from the mercenaries grew closer by the second, there wasn’t a hint of doubt in her mind as she quickly turned off the main road, to the right, using what strength she had left to speed up and jump, plunging into the Lake’s freezing embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

_The laughter and chatter fill the circular chamber, clumsily echoing against walls unused to such vibrant and lively noises. Vekel serves drink after drink behind the bar and even Dirge is already redder than a snowberry, slumped over the stool and slurring out of tune rambles to Tonilia, the fact that she’s too busy happily commenting with Vex the good news to acknowledge him apparently of little importance as he keeps laughing his own unintelligible jokes._  
  
_He excuses himself out of the group conversation he’s been having with Sapphire and Thrynn for the last half an hour- a discussion about the future of the guild that for once hasn’t been shrouded in pessimism and restricted amounts of hope and walks his way around people and tables towards Delvin’s usual seat, watching so he doesn’t drop his bottle, surprised for a second when he realizes that their newest member isn’t sitting next to him any more. The red haired thief does a little –perhaps a bit tipsy spin as he keeps getting closer to the older Breton, searching for her face among the blurry crowd, stopping just in time before he hits his leg against the table. He points at the empty chair way too fast for his mouth to catch up with the gesture. Either he’s drunk a bit too much or his body has forgot after all this time how to hold up for a party._  
  
_‘Where is…?’ he finally manages to articulate._  
  
_Delvin turns to look at the chair and then back at him, shrugging._  
  
_‘She went to bed hardly ten minutes after this whole thing started’ he replied, poking a second jug full to the top with mead next to his empty one, ‘Didn’t even touch her drink’._  
  
_Brynjolf arches a quizzical eyebrow. ‘What? But… this is for her!’ he exclaims, a grin taking over his face as he opens his arms, ‘We got Whiterun, we got Windhelm, money is making its way into our safes…!’_  
  
_‘I know, I know’ Delvin interrupts him, ‘It’s what I told her, to relax and enjoy it, but she looked exhausted anyway’ he explains, laying back on his chair with a lazy smirk, ‘Can’t blame the kid, she’s hardly stopped for a rest these last months’._  
  
_‘Hm…’ the ginger nods, diverting his eyes towards the tunnel that leads to the cistern for a moment and then pushing the subject apart to bring his attention back to the Breton, ‘And what’s up with you, eh?’ he asks, carefully pronouncing every word so as not to let his inebriated state become too obvious, ‘Sitting here away from everybody with a frown on your face. To think we were happy that Mercer left for the evening, only to have you slouching all over the place instead!’ he jokes, playfully pushing Delvin’s shoulder._  
  
_The older thief faintly smiles at his words, crossing his arms with a grunt._  
  
_‘As happy as I am that things are looking up, Bryn…’ he sighs, shaking his head, ‘It’s been too many years of bad luck for it to just, disappear. I can’t help but feel like something is going to go wrong’._

 _‘Oh, please’ the other man groans, throwing his head back, ‘Not again with the curse, Delvin’._  
  
_‘Yes again with the curse, Brynjolf’ he retorts, ‘I don’t care what all of you think, whoever or whatever is angry at the guild out there, I doubt it has suddenly forgotten about us’ he absent-mindedly picks up his jug and taps the table with its base, his frown deepening, ‘It’s as if it was waiting for us to put our guard down, to reach our highest point and then…’_  
  
_He lifts the tankard and puts it back onto the table in one quick, rough motion, letting the loud hollow sound it produces speak for him._  
  
_Brynjolf’s eyes linger on the jug for less than a second and then travel back up to Delvin’s face, observing him in silence with a skeptical expression before he speaks again._  
  
_‘Okay… well, if that’s true, and something out there is out to get us, then I know just what to do so it doesn’t succeed, old friend’ he says, making a pause to hold his bottle over Delvin’s jug and pouring in it what’s left of his drink, ‘First, we make sure to keep our spirits up and marching, juuust like this…’ he lets the last drop of mead fall out the bottle, letting it fall to the ground and resting his hand on the breton’s shoulder, ‘And then, we keep working, we keep doing what we do best and we keep pushing each other towards our total recovery- that way, when we’re at that highest point you mentioned, we’ll be so disgustingly rich and powerful your so-called curse will find its teeth sunk into a thirty feet wall made of pure gold and thick as a goddamned mammoth!’_  
  
_His excited and slightly drunken speech manages to rip a throaty laugh from the older thief, who fails to hold it back, and he laughs along with him, giving his shoulder one last push before he starts walking towards the tunnel without another word. Delvin notices this and sits up straight, turning in his chair to call him._  
  
_‘Hey, hey, going to bed already? Just now that I’m waking up?’_  
  
_The ginger spins around and points behind him, walking backwards. ‘Nah, just want to check on her, see if I can convince her to join us’._  
  
_‘Ah, leave the kid alone, will you? Told you, she looked dead tired’._  
  
_‘Nothing that Vekel can’t fix!’ he cries out as he turns the corner, facing front again and keeping the smile as he marches through the tunnel and reaches the wooden door at the end of it._

 _The silence that reigns inside the chamber is dense enough to nearly drown out the murmur coming from the tavern. It makes the thief instinctively slow down his pace so he doesn’t break it, remembering in the midst of his stupor that he’s there to wake her up and that making noise is probably a huge part of it- except she’s not asleep. It doesn’t take him long to see her from where he stands, sitting on the edge of her bed with her back facing him. Her head hangs low, and before he has time to worry he notices the small book laying open on her lap._  
  
_The fact she hasn’t turned around or even flinched tells him she didn’t hear the door opening, neither knows he’s there. And for some reason that escapes him, he challenges himself to keep it like that and starts tip-toeing his way towards the bed, trying to discern what she seems so concentrated on while simultaneously fighting back a fit of nervous laughter whenever he imagines the scare he’s about to pull on her. Gods, he’s so drunk._  
  
_It’s only when he’s crossed the bridge and is close enough to focus his view that his mind starts to unexplainably drift away and he finds himself studying these little, silly details that for some reason had gone until now unnoticed. Details like how her armor doesn’t hang loose from her shoulders anymore, their width doubled in size ever since she first wore it. The leather that stretches over her developing muscles, no longer malnourished, but strong and bigger by the day, her arms no longer the frail and skinny limbs of that young girl he caught rummaging through strangers’ pockets in the market. The patches and stitches decorating her armor on every place a sword or a dagger has found its way through during her travels speaking of someone absolutely different from that girl that spent hours on end in the training room, avoiding by any mean the exterior and the enemies that weren’t made of hay._  
  
_He doesn’t realize his chuckling has died down, or that he’s frozen in place, hardly a few feet away from the bed, staring at this stranger with a dumbfounded expression. He’s immersed in every new discovery, wondering just what kind of jobs Delvin and Vex have been assigning her that could cause in just a few months a development drastic enough to compete with that of an imperial soldier after a year of training in Solitude._  
  
_His eyes drop on her lap and he sees her hand, holding the same page she’s been reading since he entered the cistern, its edges worn and crumpled and somehow older looking than the rest of pages it rests upon, her thumb gently stroking the corner it’s holding- and then he notices the text, uneven and fading in color, and he understands that it isn’t a small book, after all, but some kind of journal, or diary. Maybe hers?_  
  
_A brief but ragged exhale of air from his part is all it takes to make her head snap around and jump off the bed, her glazed eyes widening with alarm, startling the thief out of his trance._  
  
_‘Shhhh- what- Brynjolf! Gods!’ she breathes out, relieved, and then smiles nervously, ’Y-You scared the crap out of me!’ the girl laughs, holding up her hands. She then looks at the journal she’s still holding, freezing for a short moment and rushing to put it back in the nightstand’s drawer, her smile not so big. ‘What- what are you doing here?’_  
  
_‘Uh…’ he blinks repeatedly, trying with a shake of his head to get rid of that strange lethargy that’s taken over him out of nowhere, to remember what was it he came to do here in the first place._  
  
_‘I thought- weren’t you at the party?’ she asks, tugging her belts to put her clothes back into place._  
  
_‘Aye- yes!’ he stirs up, glad to finally remember, ‘Actually, was wondering why you weren’t there…!’ he grins, though not as confident as when he had arrived, ‘It’s thanks to you we have something to celebrate, after all’._

 _‘Ah, yes. No, I just…’ she rubs the back of her head, sitting back down on the bed, ‘I told Delvin, I’m aching all over’ she smiles tiredly at him, tilting her head to the side with a crack from her neck, ‘Ow… I was just, getting ready to sleep, actually- you go have fun, really. You guys have been working hard yourselves, you deserve it’._  
  
_‘Well, I’d like it if you were there with us, lass. Mmmaybe, spend some time with your dear mentor, let him gloat over his unmatched compass for true, natural talent’ he jokingly comments, deepening his tone and placing a hand on his chest in addition to the play._  
  
_The lass snorts, but shakes her head. ‘Sorry, but, I’m really, really tired’ she insists, rubbing her forehead, ‘Maybe… I don’t know, tomorrow we can have breakfast at The Bee and Barb? How does that sound?’_  
  
_Brynjolf lets out a long sigh, feeling easily defeated at the moment. ‘Aaaallright, allright. Breakfast it is, then’ he points a finger at her, arching his brow, ‘Don’t you find any excuse for that, though’._  
  
_She points a finger back at him with a weary grin, a comeback at the tip of her tongue, but then stops herself. ‘Oh, I almost forgot!’_  
  
_She bends down and picks her bag from the ground, poking through its contents with one hand, and takes out something wrapped in clothes. The girl puts it on the bed, tugging at the strings that hold it together._  
  
_‘I had to stop at Solitude, for- well, a friend needed some things done, and I remembered how you told me…’ she removes the cloth, revealing the lid of a crystal jar, ‘… about how much you loved this stuff?’_  
  
_His protégée puts the wrapping away and he gasps. ‘Oh- oh ho, ho, no-ho oh, you, didn’t…!’ he laughs in disbelief, taking a step forward and picking up the jar filled with salmon roe, holding it against the light from a distant torch. ‘You remembered?’_  
  
_She raises a hand to poke the crystal. ‘Best quality, if the man who sells it is to be trusted. He has his cabin settled next to Solitude, and this fish hatchery where he breeds the salmon and collects and treats the roe himself…’ she explains, taking back her hand to cover the yawn that suddenly breaks out of her mouth, ‘Hmmgh, fuck… a-anyway, yeah, it should be good, a girl I know, a maid in the Blue Palace, told me the cook gets it from him’._

 _‘Shor’s beard, there must be five generations in here’ he says, weighting the jar with one hand, ‘Must’ve cost you a fortune’._  
  
_She waves a hand dismissively, saying ‘Don’t even think about it, it’s a gift’ and lays back down on the bed with a grunt, ‘Just, stuff your mouth and enjoy it’._  
  
_‘No, no, you are at least trying it. On a slice of toasted bread with butter, it’s delicious’._  
  
_Her face crumples up. ‘Eh. Never really liked seafood, Bryn…’_  
  
_‘This isn’t the charred fish you order at a tavern, lass!' he exclaims, 'One taste and I guarantee, you’ll never have enough of it’._  
  
_'I don't even order fish in the first place...'_  
  
_'Served with scrambled eggs, next to a juicy steak...'_  
  
_'You're making me nauseous...'_  
  
_'Topping a great, steamy plate of baked potatoes covered in cream of leek...'_  
  
_‘Okay, okay…!’ the girl cries out, easily defeated as well, covering her eyes with one arm and chuckling, ‘You win, I’ll eat the- the fish’s, eggs, ugh…’ she pokes out her tongue with disgust and he bursts out laughing._  
  
_‘And I’ll let you rest, before you get all cranky on me’ he picks at her, holding the jar close to his chest, ‘If you find it hard to sleep, though, you know where to find us’ he teases, stepping back to where he came from._  
  
_She doesn’t put the arm away, but smiles, giving a light nod, and he slowly turns around and leaves the chamber, the silence again complete after he closes the door behind him._  
  
_The smile on her face fades right away. And as hard as she tries to fall asleep, most of that night she spends it awake and staring at the ceiling._  
  
_The party ends without her._


End file.
